Chain
by shi-chan
Summary: YamaGoku  If he were to think back, Yamamoto could safely say that his feelings for Gokudera was quite a long chain.


I do not own Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn. Purely fanwork, nothing else.

Warning: First attempt, possible OOC. Any misspellings or wrong grammar is unintentional. I am my own beta. I could have missed some stuff.

Edited.

**CHAIN**

Right from the beginning, Yamamoto was very much _intrigued_.

He wasn't exactly sure when the chain started or what had triggered it, but he was pretty sure it was after seeing Gokudera down and bleeding, _barely_ aware of his surroundings, several thumb-tack-like-needles embedded in to his torso. He became _concerned_ after seeing Gokudera so selfless and so dedicated to their game of mafia role-playing to the point that raw and hot anger pulsated through his veins, the urge to beat up someone never that profoundly high and rather freakishly disturbing than that very moment itself.

It never occurred to him that a struggling man could look so breathtakingly beautiful. Normally, he would never put a hospital environment, a respirator, an IV-drip and struggling patient together with the word beautiful. No, it was a very wrong concept and anyone who did think it was beautiful ought to be knocked in the head several times. He had laughed at himself at that point and time and got the glare and threat from the one sister no one would really like to have. Even he couldn't stop the slightly flutter of fear in his gut when Bianchi so coldly asked him, "What's so funny, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

Yamamoto believed that the world was funny, which was why after becoming concerned for Gokudera in general, he moved on to being _fascinated._

He will never figure out how Gokudera carried that much dynamite and still have more to spare during a fight. He will never forget the look on Gokudera's face when he was being thrown around by Ken, the concern, the anger towards the maltreatment of an enemy to the member of his mafia-family. Despite him not being able to see much in the dark and the fact that his head was already swimming from all the throwing around the doped-primate was giving him, he did see Tsuna's face and without him intending to, Gokudera's too. He could safely say that after that he was no longer just fascinated but also rather _over-whelmed_.

He couldn't really pin-point when it all started to go beyond _involvement_ and just perhaps a touch _attraction_, but he knew it was the moment he woke up in a clean room, the smell of disinfectant filling his lungs and the white-washed walls somewhat blinding in his very vapid hospital room.

"Yamamato! You're awake!" Tsuna said, looking very much relieved if not happy to see him blearily blink back up at him and manage to coax out his infamous baseball-star-grin as soon as he pulled the oxygen mask aside.

"Yo, Tsuna." He croaked back, his entire body aching with a touch of numbness that he was sure was due to the painkillers the Vongola Medics doused him in. "You're looking better and as cheerful as ever."

"I'm so glad you're up. It's been a day, I was starting to worry. How's your arm?"

Yamamoto couldn't stop the swell of affection bubbling in him but he just grinned even wider. "A bit numb but I can't wait to practice again."

There wasn't much to be said after that, but Tsuna was more than glad to update him on everything that has taken place so far, and how Dr. Shamal was actually doing something despite his continuous litany of "I don't treat males". The girls were unharmed, he was glad of that. Reborn - that weird baby - actually said that he didn't have to worry about his baseball career. The top notch medics are going to make sure he didn't have any lasting damage that may hinder his love and passion for the sport. Bianchi woke up a few hours ago and had gone back home to rest, although Yamamoto could tell from Tsuna's face that the woman was probably busy conjuring up more poison cooking instead of lying in bed. Hibari, apparently, was still asleep and that the hospital was gradually discharging the previously injured students.

"And Gokudera?" He asked quietly, wondering why he suddenly held his breath.

Tsuna's face looked a bit down, but he gave a little helpless and worried shrug. "He's next door. He woke up for a few minutes but fell back asleep immediately. I - I couldn't do much, and all of you were already giving it your best. He's in such a bad state, I -"

"Don't worry about it, Tsuna. Gokudera wouldn't go down with such a small thing. He is after all, the right-hand man." Yamamoto smiled, knowing full well the moment those words left his mouth that he was just simply _awed_ beyond words.

Tsuna gave him a weak smile then and a small nod. "You're right. Oh! I must contact your father! He told me to give him a call when you're awake! He couldn't leave the shop for long!"

And just like that, the friend that he was rather fond of left him in a wild dash for the door. He remembered closing his eyes briefly and when he opened them again, the afternoon sun was replaced by the evening sky judging from what he could see from his slightly parted blue drapes. There was also a stack of sushi-boxes sitting on the table by the window, accompanied by several bouquets of flowers and cards. He knew Tsuna was responsible for alerting everyone that another member of their mafia-family was finally awake. Almost immediately, he thought of Gokudera then and there.

He remembered sighing and tugging at the oxygen mask that was replaced over his head and slowly sitting up to make his way to the boxes of good sushi he knew his father made for him. He wasn't very hungry and his toes were cold from the hospital's air-conditioning. He vaguely recalled taking one of the boxes with the more exotic and expensive sushi and making his way next door. He recalled being quiet and cautious as his bare feet walked across the ceramic floors and stared upon Gokudera's face, where his eyes were partially open and he was staring up at the ceiling, mouth and nose obscured by the mask that provided him with oxygen.

"Yo, Gokudera. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." He croaked, the mask fogging, eyes narrowing even more as he stared up at him. "What are you doing here, baseball-junkie? You look like shit."

Yamamoto remembered laughter bubbling out of his throat as he went from being awed to _interested_ and perhaps just a little bit more _earnest_ towards the man lying on the bed, struggling to get the mask off his face. Without thinking, he reached forward, laughter in is dark eyes as he pulled the mask that was tangling with the greasy locks of silver hair.

Even in the dark, he can still clearly remember Gokudera's rather surprised expression and perhaps his pink cheeks as well when he sat down beside him on the bed, placing the sushi box by his good arm and grinned, "You're really interesting, Gokudera."

The indignant pout was something he couldn't really forget either. "Of course. I have to be. I am the tenth's right-hand man."

Yamamoto wasn't sure if that was how it all started, but the chain was unending and somewhere in between, as he laughed again - because the world was funny - he knew that he became _committed_ as he handed Gokudera a pair of chopsticks and uncovered the lid of the sushi-box.

"You're _very _interesting, Gokudera."

This time though, when he laughed again at the slight blush and scowl on Gokudera's face, Yamamoto was a hundred percent _sure_ it was because of the swelling _devotion_ warming his chest.

FIN

I had to get this out of my system. My very first KHR fanfic and yes, as you can tell, I really, really like Gokudera/Yamamoto or Yamamoto/Gokudera. Both ways works just fine for me.

I've only watched the anime, so I'm basing my work(s) on what I've seen so far.

So uh, yeah. New fandom attempt! Wee!


End file.
